


Healing

by Kimium



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Hints of abuse, Hints of poly blob! DMMD, Hints of sexual abuse, M/M, Set in an AU where Aoba is rescued from ViTri by the DMMD boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an AU Post ViTri bad ending.</p>
<p>Aoba has been saved from Virus and Trip, but not from the nightmares. Luckily he has Koujaku to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look me posting things when I should go to bed...
> 
> So this story has been sitting in my computer for a least a year. I finally decided to post it here. I want to give a big shout out to Yuki or a_little_harmed_shira (who wrote the work Pointe that you should all read. I'll provide a link at the end if you wish to check her work out). Thanks Yuki for always discussing with me new ways to inflict sadness upon Aoba.
> 
> This story is working on the idea that Aoba has been saved from the ViTri bad end and the boys are one big poly blob.

If anyone asked, Aoba was a mess.

Correction: Aoba was broken.

He woke up screaming once again, a scream that ripped from his diaphragm up his throat, projecting out his mouth. Sobs rippled through his body and Aoba felt the familiar feeling of not being able to breathe. Wrapping his arms around his body Aoba curled into a ball, sobbing into his knees, the tears making his face warm and wet.

Almost on cue his door opened and a flutter of fabric echoed through the air before he was wrapped in familiar arms, the comforting smell of hair products and sandalwood incense burned his nose. Forcing himself to ease into the familiar arms, Aoba tried to remind himself that _yes Koujaku was only trying to comfort him_ _and did not expect any sexual reaction_.

“I-I’m sorry.” Aoba choked out.

A soft hushing sound, one that Koujaku used to do when they were children fell naturally from his lips. Arms tightened a bit for comfort, never restraint as Koujaku lightly shook his head, his loose hair brushing Aoba’s face, tickling him a bit.

“No apologies Aoba,” He softly said, “I got you.”

Another choked sob escaped Aoba’s lips. Koujaku was wasting his time. Everyone was wasting their time. He was broken, a complete mess. Virus and Trip did a good job, reducing Aoba to a doll, a pet. Eating, bathing, and dressing were all done if reminded. Taking Aoba out was impossible and resulted in panic attacks. He was confined to his home, his interactions hollow corpses of what they used to be.

Clutching Koujaku’s loose robe Aoba wished he didn’t need constant reminders that he was safe and no one was going to hurt him, but the memories were too vivid. Aoba could still feel their hands on his skin, could still feel their breath upon his neck, and could still hear their voices echoing in his skull.

The dream tonight was a familiar one: dark sheets obscuring his vision, the smell of wine, the slick feel of something thick inside him, and the hot wave of humiliation and shame as he cried while aroused. Aoba always forgot how the dream ended, but he always woke up screaming.

“Do you… will it help…” Koujaku fumbled a bit, “if you talked?”

Aoba took a deep breath and shook his head, “It’s the same; it is always the same.”

He felt Koujaku tighten at his words, but his comforting embrace did not falter, “Should I call Clear in to help you fall back asleep?”

His voice sounded like he wanted to help, but Aoba could taste the slight jealousy that painted his tone. Clear did help him fall asleep and was the most effective option. Singing involved no contact and it always left Aoba sleeping deep and dreamless, but it resulted in pushing the others away. Swallowing hard Aoba weighed his options. Surely one night would be fine? Koujaku only wanted his safety and comfort, no physical satisfaction.

“You…” Aoba found his voice surprisingly even, “you can stay… if you want.”

Aoba felt a flutter in his friend’s chest and watched as heat rose to Koujaku’s cheeks before a slight cough, probably trying to mask his happiness, escaped Koujaku’s lips.

“I can do that.” Koujaku almost breathlessly said, “If you’re all right.”

Aoba loosened his body position and shuffled a bit over in his bed, hopefully giving Koujaku enough space. Almost fluidly Koujaku lay down, pulling the covers over them, nearly to Aoba’s ears. A brief smile flickered across Aoba’s face; Koujaku used to make blanket forts with Aoba, always pulling the blankets briefly to their ears before pulling the covers over their heads. Almost as if it was programmed into his system, Koujaku pulled the covers over their heads, grinning a bit impishly as he did so.

“Remember when we used to make blanket forts?” Koujaku asked fondly.

“We’d tell stories under the blankets,” Aoba softly replied, the memories slowly seeping into his mind, “You’d always make yourself the hero.”

Koujaku flushed and stuttered a bit, “Did not…” He hotly protested.

Aoba felt his eyebrow rise.

“Okay… maybe I did once in a while…” Koujaku sheepishly admitted, “But I make a good hero.”

A small smile spread across Aoba’s face. Snuggling into his (coarse not silk, Aoba could not handle silk without flinching) sheets, Aoba felt his body relax a bit, sleep starting to fill the edges of his mind. He heard a bit of a shuffle before the blankets were pulled back, tucked neatly over their shoulders.

“Hey Aoba…” Koujaku hesitantly ventured.

Making a small noise of confirmation Aoba waited for his friend to continue.

“Could I… would it be all right if I held you?”

‘ _He doesn’t want physical gratification_ ’ a small voice had to pipe up in the back of his mind. Biting his lip Aoba gently reminded himself that Koujaku would not harm him.

“Okay,” He whispered.

Koujaku did not immediately hold him. A moment passed and Aoba felt the briefest pressure of a calloused hand, one that was used to holding a sword and shaping other’s hair for a living, pressed against Aoba’s shoulder. Gently Koujaku pulled himself closer to Aoba, lightly wrapping his arm around Aoba’s waist. Aoba felt Koujaku get closer until his nose was buried at the top of Aoba’s head.

“Good night Aoba.” Koujaku whispered.

The heat that radiated off of Koujaku only helped lure Aoba to a pleasant sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7209701 (Pointe by a_little_harmed_shinra)
> 
> I wanted to write more of the boyfriends, but Koujaku always has a special place in my heart (I am a big sucker for childhood BFFS oops...)
> 
> I've always worked on the assumption that Clear's voice can lure anyone to sleep. Anyone.


End file.
